


Yale Blues (or, Undone-The Sweater Story)

by jouissant



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Post-Canon, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jouissant/pseuds/jouissant
Summary: Everything started on a raw day at the beginning of December, when Dick traipsed into the living room wearing a sweater.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For houxvertetbruyere on Tumblr, who asked for Dick in Nix's Yale sweater.

Everything started on a raw day at the beginning of December, when Dick traipsed into the living room wearing a sweater.

It was ten o'clock in the morning, and Lew had already decided that today was a day for steadfastly refusing to leave the house. Snow and ice were one thing, but freezing rain was quite another. Dick, of course, had already been out and come back, to the office to pick up some paperwork that allegedly couldn't wait until Monday, and to the market to pick up an itemized list of rations to get them through the predicted inclement weekend. He was liable to put a guy to shame—if a guy had any to start with. Thank God, Lew thought, that didn't apply to him.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Lew asked.

Rhetorically, of course, because he knew precisely what Dick was wearing. A sweater that was woollen, and oversized, and blue, and which bore a blocky intarsia Y square in the center of the chest. He was also wearing trousers—corduroy, soft brown and worn at the knees from what was no doubt good honest work—and a pair of thick socks, but those were firmly beside the point.

"Oh, this old thing?" Dick said. He grinned crookedly. "I dunno, I was cold and I found it in a drawer somewhere. Say, what's this Y stand for, do you think?"

"Christ," Lew said. "Take it off."

"I'm cold," Dick said.

"Find another sweater," said Lew.

"I like this one," Dick said, rubbing at his chest over the wool. "I feel smarter already."

"You're certainly a smart _ass_ ," Lew said. "But that's not the sweater's fault."

Dick laughed, and Lew took an indignant sip of his coffee, which didn't contain so much as a single drop of whiskey to improve matters. Dick was standing in their living room looking disturbingly collegiate and as fetchingly rumpled as if he'd just emerged from a dormitory. He looked the sort to toss a football back and forth on the quad, which was an objectively awful concept and—as such—not at all perversely attractive.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Dick asked.

"No reason."

"Bringing back memories?"

"Yeah, right," Lew said. He thought of saying _I don't remember anyone like you_ , but he decided it might sound maudlin.

Dick smiled, and came over and sat beside Lew on the sofa. He pulled his feet up off the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, which made him look so young Lew had to wonder a minute if he was doing it on purpose. But he was Dick, and on the whole Lew thought him too unstudied to pose.

"I wonder what you were like in college," Dick said, sounding wistful.

"Are you asking?"

"No," Dick said. "Not exactly."

Lew sighed. "What were you like? If we're reminiscing."

"I was pretty boring. Just worked and went to class. Wrestled some, but you know that."

"Wrestler extraordinaire, uh huh. Got it. No vices, natch. No youthful indiscretions?" Lew knew that too, or he could guess.

"Not a one," Dick said, and Lew thought he actually sounded a little regretful.

"Mm," hummed Lew. "More's the pity. I've had a few. In fact, I never met a youthful indiscretion I didn't like, but if you want to know the truth, I get the feeling you'd have made the top five easy."

"Top five, huh," Dick said. "You flatterer."

"In that sweater? Maybe even top two. There was that girl from Vassar with the big—"

Dick fixed him with a rather withering look.

"— _heart_. Huge heart. She was a real angel, Dick, get your mind out of the gutter."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Tell me more about this hypothetical indiscretion," he said, obviously intent on playing Lew's licentiousness to his own ends.

That was fine, Lew thought. He was happy to be played. Dick scooted closer in a move that could only be described as a snuggle, but maybe that was down to the sweater, too. His hands were certainly icy enough when Lew took them. He tugged the cuffs of the sweater further down Dick's wrists.

"You weren't kidding," Lew said. "You really are cold." He got up and fiddled with the radiator. "We ought to start a fire," he said.

"That'd be nice.”

Lew looked back at him over his shoulder, huddled on the sofa, and felt a pang.

"Right," Lew said. "Hold that thought."

He took up a chunky pine log from the stack beside the fireplace. He dragged the iron grate aside and set about making the fire. After all, he thought, one couldn't very well stage an indiscretion in a drafty living room. In no time at all, he'd charmed a cheery little fire into being, one that had the distinct side benefit of flattering Dick's complexion when Lew dragged him down to sit before it on the rug.

"Why are we down here?" Dick asked.

"Shh," said Lew. "We're warming up."

"Are fires very indiscreet at Yale? Is that why you got so excited in the dell?"

"You're a funny guy, you know that?"

"Oh?"

"Yep. Nobody gives you any credit for it, either."

"You do," said Dick quietly.

His tone was soft enough to suck the sting from Lew's retort. Lew sighed. Leave it to Dick to begin with banter and finish up on some manner of heartfelt confession. Almost made you want to kiss him.

"Well, like calls to like," Lew said, clearing his throat. "Couple of college guys like us. There's a degree of discernment—"

"I am awfully discerning," said Dick.

"You are. Look at your taste in friends. Or in branches of the service, for that matter."

"Friends, huh," Dick said. He stretched out on his back in front of the fireplace.

Outside the morning was so dark it might as well be dusk, so Lew didn't feel quite as strange about camping in front of the fire so early in the day. Not that Lew ever felt particularly strange about doing nothing—it was Dick who was unusual in his repose. He had a pillow tucked beneath his head and the hem of his sweater had crept up, revealing a pale slice of his abdomen, bisected by a line of russet hair.

"I think Yale blue goes well with red," Lew said absently. He was staring, which would have been obvious if Dick hadn't been looking into the fire.

"So how does it usually go?" Dick asked. He hadn't been listening, either.

"Huh?"

"An indiscretion. With your Vassar girl, how did it go?"

"Oh, you don't want to hear about that," Lew said.

"Don't I?"

"Probably not."

Lew had fucked her in his car homecoming weekend. They'd both been very drunk. As it happened, she had been wearing a sweater too, which had showed her figure off to great advantage, and a skirt she held around her waist when she sat on his lap in the front passenger seat. He couldn't exactly picture things going the same way with Dick, though the thought of it was enough to get his blood pumping. He lay down next to Dick on his side, and put his hand on Dick's stomach beneath the sweater.

"Here's how I picture it, though," Lew said. "Ready?"

"Born ready," Dick said, laughing.

"Well, that's a lie," Lew said, not unkindly. "But all right. There's a party, probably at one of the fraternity houses. You're there, with the rest of the football team—"

"Football? Why—" 

"Shut up. Maybe I always wanted to make it with a football player. Maybe it's the root of all my neuroses."

"Lew, if you're confessing you lusted after Buck Compton all along—"

Lew groaned, in both mock annoyance and pleased shock at Dick saying the word _lusted_. He leaned across the space between them to grab at the front of Dick's sweater, right in the middle of the Y, and drag him forward to kiss. Dick was laughing as their mouths met, but Lew licked at his lips and he settled into the moment with a sigh.

"You're at the party," Lew said when they broke apart, voice as steady as if they hadn't been kissing at all. "I see you at the punch bowl looking—looking like a goddamn All-American, which you probably are. You look at me, I look at you, I get you a drink. We talk. We dance—"

"What sort of party is this?"

"The sort where two fellows can dance up close." Lew draped a leg over one of Dick's, thigh brushing the crotch of Dick's corduroys as if to demonstrate just what he meant by close.

"I want you," Lew said softly into Dick's ear, close enough that his breath made Dick shudder. "And I can tell you want me too."

Dick stirred beneath the corduroy, beneath Lew's thigh. "Then what?" he asked. He was looking down at the place their bodies overlapped. He put a hand around Lew's waist.

"Oh," Lew said. "We make our excuses. We walk back to your place, or we drive. If we drive I can't keep my hands off you in the car." He unbuttoned Dick's trousers, relishing the way Dick's breath came faster, at the way his cock had thickened in his briefs when Lew put a hand down under his waistband and palmed it.

"If we walk, I haul you into the shadows and do this." He fisted the sweater front in his hand again and kissed Dick soundly, open-mouthed and sloppy the way he might if he was drunk, still groping Dick through his splayed fly.

Dick moaned and grabbed Lew by the hair, holding his head in place, his tongue in Lew's mouth. "Do—do we make it back to mine?" His eyes were glazed and absent, his face ruddy. Lew had to hand it to him for remembering to play along anyway.

"Maybe. Depends how lit up you are. Maybe you shoot out in the street, all over yourself." He thumbed the head of Dick's cock.

"Nix," Dick muttered. "C'mon—"

"Mmm, or maybe I tell you to get yourself together and wait til we're behind closed doors." With that, Lew withdrew his hand. Dick made an irritated noise.

"Patience is a virtue, Dick," said Lew, despite the fact he was by now hard in his own trousers.

Dick glared.

"Aw," said Lew. "Never fear, we're back at your place soon enough. Finally we're alone, and I lay you down on the bed—"

"Hmm," said Dick. "No pleasantries? Should I be scandalized?"

"You probably should be scandalized. But this is an indiscretion, my friend. No pleasantries required, and that's mutual. So, I lay you down on the bed—"

Lew stretched out alongside Dick again, brushed his hair back off his face in a manner that couldn't help but be a little bit romantic.

"— and I tell you to take your pants off."

Dick gave him a querulous look. "Just my pants?" He fingered the ribbing at the hem of the sweater, and goddammit, thought Lew, that might actually be an attempt at lasciviousness. On Dick, it just looked cute. 

"You're cold," said Lew. "Leave the sweater on."

"Socks?"

Lew hadn't thought as far as the socks. "I don't know, leave 'em if you want."

Dick appeared to actually be considering it. "I think it looks funny, being naked with socks on," he said finally. 

"I mean, you're not naked. You've got the sweater."

"Still," Dick said.

"Dick! Who cares about the socks. Am I seducing you, or aren't I?"

Dick laughed. He lay back and tugged his trousers down, kicking them free of his ankles. He made a show of peeling his socks off, and Lew fought the urge to swat at him. Antics notwithstanding, he put Lew in mind of a cheesecake centerfold. For once Dick had the pants off, and once he'd dispensed with his briefs and with the much-maligned socks…well, then all that was left was the sweater, and Dick was somehow all the barer for it. Lew could just see him. Probably the photographer would get him on his belly, legs bent insouciantly at the knee, ass round and white. Lew cursed under his breath.

As it was now, Dick was supine, the sweater skirting the level of his navel. Lew had always thought Dick looked fairly edible when aroused, and this was no exception; his cock was pink and flushed with blood, his skin half cream and half blotchy rose with the heat of the fire, and all of it intolerably freckled. Lew ducked his head and kissed him on the hip as messily as he had on the mouth a moment ago, moving across to the base of his cock and leaving a trail of spit in his wake.

"I'd ask you," Lew said, his lips moving against Dick's skin, "if you wanted me to suck you off. And you'd say…"

"Yes," Dick said quickly. Then, softer, "Yes?" as though perhaps he thought he wasn't meant to acquiesce so soon.

"You're eager," said Lew. "And I've been thinking about it since I first saw you across the room. So no pleasantries, and no games either."

He pitched forward and kissed Dick on the chest, as if time was of the essence and there wasn't enough of it to make it up to his mouth. Then he ducked his head and kissed the head of Dick's cock, just lightly, just enough to make Dick mutter something under his breath and jerk his hips again. Lew wrapped one hand around him and took Dick into his mouth.

Lew fancied himself talented in this area. Certainly, Dick was receptive; he gasped and murmured and put his hands in Lew's hair. By now Lew knew what Dick liked: to be teased a little, for Lew to lap at the head of his cock while he watched breathlessly. Lew wouldn't have known it with a stranger, and in this way the game had begun to fall apart, but he supposed that was the perk of familiarity: the knowledge that he could tease Dick until he surged upward uncontrollably to try and fuck Lew's mouth; the way he kept his eyes closed and bit his lip; the way frank pleasure changed his face, smoothed the lines that sprang up sometimes around his eyes and at his brow. A part of Lew softened when they were together like this, always felt as if he was easing some long-carried residual tension in them both.

"Nix," Dick said, and pulled at Lew's hair. "Nix."

A warning, and one Lew ignored. He hummed around Dick in his mouth and took him down his throat. Dick groaned, his hand clenching and unclenching against Lew's head. Lew lay his hand flat against Dick's belly, his muscles shifting and bunching as he curled forward, thrusting into Lew's mouth as though giving up control at last. He came with a soft and wounded sound, as though taken aback by the velocity of his pleasure.

"Lew," he sighed. "Damn."

From Dick, this was the height of obscenity, and it set Lew throbbing. He sucked Dick until he softened, moaned and attempted to withdraw.

Lew pulled off, coughing and wiping his mouth. Dick sat up the rest of the way, threw one arm around Lew's neck and kissed him. Lew's lips felt bee-stung, his trousers over-tight and chafing. He squirmed in Dick's arms, and Dick laughed gently and reached down to unbutton Lew's fly.

"I guess this is what comes next," Dick said.

"Huh?" Lew felt bleary, his focus having narrowed to Dick's fingers at his waistband.

"I return the favor."

"Oh," said Lew. "That's not—"

"But I want to," Dick said, looking as devilish as Dick Winters could manage. "I've been thinking about it since I first saw you."

He yanked Lew's pants and underwear down. He apparently cared less for aesthetics than Lew had, not bothering to undress him further. He simply urged Lew up into a kneel and sat before him cross-legged, hunching over in a way that looked as though it must not be comfortable. But when he took hold of Lew's cock with a gentle yet determined air and began to kiss along its length Lew found that Dick's comfort dropped from his list of priorities, for better or worse.

He was a picture. He was still wearing that goddamn sweater. His spent cock was still pink against his thigh; the hair on his legs was red-gold and sparkled in the firelight, and his head where it bent low to attend to Lew's cock was the same improbable copper that Lew had first picked out of a crowd years ago. He hadn't stopped since, and saw no indication he ever would.

Lew put his hands on Dick's shoulders and slid them beneath the collar of his sweater. He had begun to sweat. Lew imagined him a moment ago, tense with orgasm, the wool prickly as a hairshirt in counterpoint. He sucked Lew with an efficiency that was almost businesslike, his cheeks hollowing, tongue laving Lew around the head, and when he broke away to work Lew over with his hand and nip simultaneously at his balls Lew was done for, coming with a gasp that had Dick scrambling to close his lips around Lew's cock again and swallow. He ended up messy anyway, leaning back and accepting Lew's limp body as he collapsed half on the rug and half in Dick's arms.

"Aw, heck, it got on your sweater," Dick said, looking down at his chest. He was laughing. 

"You—you don't seem very broken up," Lew said, out of breath.

"I am," Dick said. "I'm planning to steal this. I can't have it ruined." He hauled it off over his head and tossed it onto the sofa.

"Hey, don't despoil the furniture."

"Think of it as christening," Dick said.

"Jesus Christ, if I'd known you were so filthy-minded I'd never have agreed to this—this tryst," Lew said, remembering the fiction the sweater had inspired.

"Oh, right, our youthful indiscretion," said Dick. "So what happens next?"

"We go our separate ways, never to see each other again," said Lew, waving a hand. "If we do, it's in passing. And then ages and ages hence you tell the story to your lover to get him all het up, and you blow your top all over his clothes and live happily ever after, the end."

Dick frowned. "Well, that won't do," he said.

"No?"

"What if I want to see you again? What if I want to take you on a real date?"

"Dick—"

"Meet your parents," Dick murmured, kissing Lew behind the ear, on his cheek, on the corner of his mouth. "Your sister."

"That isn't—"

"Make an honest man out of you."

Lew huffed, trying to quash the pleased flush that had begun to suffuse him. "No wonder you didn't have any youthful indiscretions," he said. "You're getting it all wrong. At this rate you'd have ended up a bigamist."

Dick shrugged, his expression incongruously earnest, his eyes warm. "Or maybe," he said, "I'd just have had the one."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Yale Blues (or, Undone-The Sweater Story)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8695036) by [houxvertetbruyere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/houxvertetbruyere/pseuds/houxvertetbruyere)




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